


Victory Tour

by msdisdain



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdisdain/pseuds/msdisdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vision of what could have happened between the star-crossed lovers of District 12 while they crossed Panem on their Victory Tour.</p><p>Written for Dirty December, week 1--though I'm not convinced this is what everlarkrecs had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory Tour

The first time we have sex, the train hasn't even pulled out of the District 11 train station.

She barely eats a thing at dinner, and her body is stiff under my hands as we dance. There is a full meal waiting for us when we board the train afterwards, but she ignores it and heads straight for her room. I make an attempt at eating, but Effie's so distraught over the things that happened on our first stop and the fact that some sort of mechanical failure has our departure behind schedule, that I find myself making an excuse and fleeing the car.

As I approach Katniss's room, just two doors down from my own, her door swings open. Her hair is down and damp, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She is wrapped in a robe, and she silently stands aside and motions for me to enter.

"Are you o--" is all I get out, because she thrusts her hands into my hair and pulls my mouth down to hers.

Outside of the arena, she has never initiated a kiss between us. Most of the kisses we have shared have been fairly chaste, our hands and lips linked but little else. This? Is not like that. She's backed me up against the door, and every inch of her is pressed to every inch of me. I am on fire for her immediately and my head is spinning. I keep trying to ask her what's going on, but every time I make an attempt at it, she kisses me harder. 

Finally I manage to get a grip on her elbows and I push her from me, holding her at arm's length and breathing hard. "Katniss." She leans into me again and tries to free her arms. "Katniss, hold on--"

She manages to throw my hands off of her arms, and then she's pressed herself against me again. "Shut up, Peeta," she manages before slanting her mouth over mine again. Her lips find my jaw, my cheek, my ear. "Can we forget it?"

Which "it" does she mean? The arena? The tour, stretching out before us in all its horror? The nightmare we're leaving behind us in district 11? The lies she and Haymitch told me?

"We can try," I breathe.

"Make me forget." She exhales, hot on my neck, and it comes out on a sob. "Peeta. _Please._ "

I can refuse her nothing. She is awkward and desperate, pulling clumsily at my clothing, and clutching at my shoulders; but when she takes a step back from me and discards her robe, showing me her naked body underneath, I see only certainty in her eyes. If I looked into a mirror, I don't think I'd see the same in mine. 

When I push into her, tears are shed on both sides.

When I reach between us and stroke her to a climax before stifling my own muffled shout in her pillows, I am glad (for the first time) that she is not my first. That I know enough to give her this.

The next day, when we arrive in district 10 two hours early and are left to our own devices, she takes me into her shower. I have no idea when this will end and if we'll ever do this again, so I take the opportunity to explore every inch of her. Her breath is shallow, and her eyes are lost, and her fingers open and close on my shoulders as I thrust into her.

We say nothing.

In district 9 we slip away in the afternoon when we should be napping in our respective compartments. I lay her down in a wheat field and flip up her skirt. Her eyes grow huge as I lower my mouth between her legs and suck her clit into my mouth. She gasps, her head thrashing from side to side as I lick up and down the lips of her pussy, grazing her clit with my nose after every pass. She is chanting my name in a voice that borders on panicked-- _peetapeetapeetapeeta_ \--and when I slide first one, then two, and finally three fingers inside her, she raises her hips frantically to meet my hand.

After she shudders under my mouth, she grabs my hair and pulls me to her. I hesitate before kissing her, but she leans in eagerly. After a brief moment she pulls back.

"Is that what I taste like?"

I nod.

"I like it," she whispers, and licks at the wetness around my mouth. 

I nearly come in my pants right then.

We fuck for the first time in district 8. The crowds are growing more unsettled as we go on, and 8 is the first that feels...defiant. They chant her name as if it were holy, and we barely make it back to her compartment before she has her hands in my pants, grabbing at my cock. 

For some reason, anger fills me, and I push her hands away. "We have to talk about what happened out there, Katniss; we have to figure out how to handle it."

"I don't want to handle that," she rasps, reaching for me again. I want her, of course--desperately, and every second of the day, especially now--but I know this isn't solving anything. I take a step back, and this time she reaches out and shoves me. "I can't talk about it, I can't think about it. Why can't you just do this for me?" Her voice is filled with anger now, and she shoves me again, harder. I take her by the arms and push her against the door, harder than I intend to.

"Why is it always about what you want?" I bite out. She is glaring at me, her eyes flashing, and I can feel my face growing hotter.

And my cock growing harder.

I crush her mouth with mine, and she moans so loud I think I've hurt her--until her hands grab my hips and roughly pull my center to hers. I squeeze her breasts through her dress and my fingers find her nipples; when I twist them, her moans grow louder still. I lift my head from hers and scan the room, eyes lighting on a desk against the far wall. 

"Take off your panties," I snap. Surprise flits over her face, but her hands move quickly. "Are you wet, Katniss?" 

She nods, and I grasp her arm firmly and lead her over to the desk, bending her over it so her ass is in the air. She pulls her skirt up and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her. "Please, Peeta," she whispers over her shoulder. "Do it." 

I unbuckle my belt and yank my underwear down. I rub her ass with one hand and my cock with the other, and then I shove into her pussy from behind. I fuck her fast and hard, my balls slapping against her, grunting with every thrust. When I imagined being with Katniss, I never imagined it this way. Her hand is between her legs and she's groaning like a wounded animal.

When we've both come, I fasten my pants and head for the door. Before I pull it open, I look back to see that she hasn't moved.

I'm not sure who I'm more disgusted with--her or myself.

It's almost impossible to get away in district 7. She keeps trying, but Effie seems to suspect something and watches us all evening. I'm still angry and not inclined to any great deception, but Katniss catches me outside the bathroom and opens a small door further down the hallway. Silently, she leads me outside and into the woods, where she drops to her knees and sucks my cock for the first time. She is clearly as inexperienced at this as she is at everything, and for a moment all I can think is how happy I am that she's obviously never let Gale fuck her mouth.

At the last moment I pull out and finish in the grass. Then, with my cock still glistening from her mouth, I shove her up against a tree and run my hand up her thigh. When my fingers reach the top, I raise an eyebrow.

"No panties?" I murmur, feeling how slick she is under her dress. She shakes her head. I flick her clit with my thumb, and as her moan drifts through the night air, I slide a finger into her. She is hot and ready for me, and by the time I've brought her to a fast climax, I'm hard again. I fuck her up against the tree, my face buried in her neck, her nails digging into my back through my shirt. 

Afterward, I ask, "Is it helping?"

She stares off into the forest while she adjusts her dress back into place. "Does it matter?"

At the district 6 dinner, I am offered morphling as a recreational drug for the first time. When I decline, I am offered a number of other things; "enhancements," the woman calls them, with a wink and a glance at Katniss. I put on my most charming smile and decline those as well, while my stomach turns at the thought. No matter what else was going on, I couldn't imagine augmenting any of it with drugs.

Later, however, when Katniss is above me in my bed, rising and falling silently on my cock, her eyes screwed shut as if in pain, I wish I'd taken the morphling.

We actually spend the night in district 5; there's a problem with the train that needs several hours of repair. Katniss and I are offered guest rooms in the Mayor's mansion, and we accept, if only to get away from Effie's despair over her lost schedule. Portia helps me dress in the opulent suite, and I try to ignore the concern in her eyes.

"Are you being careful, Peeta?"

When I stare at her in confusion, she tilts her head toward the door that joins my room to the one they've assigned to Katniss. I can feel my face grow hot and I look away. "They gave us something after the Games...a shot. They said it lasts a year."

She wraps her hands around one of mine, and waits until I meet her eyes. "I know about the shots, Peeta. I meant...are you being careful with your heart?"

If Portia sees, who else sees? Everyone?

"It's a little late for that," I whisper. 

She smooths a hand over my hair, rubs her thumb over my cheekbone. "Loving someone doesn't have to mean giving up everything that you are."

A mirthless chuckle slips from between my lips. "I think it does, when you love Katniss." I see concern in her eyes, and maybe just a little pity. "I'll be all right, Portia."

I convince neither of us.

But that night, I remember her words, and I try to remember myself. I refuse to let Katniss rush anything. I take my time, despite her noises of frustration. I undress her slowly, caressing each inch of her exquisite skin, and trying to ignore the ribs that have grown more prominent as she has eaten less and less on this trip. I lay her down on the bed and pin her thighs open with my forearms, and I spend an endless amount of time with my face buried in her pussy. I torment her to the edge of orgasm over and over, pulling back just before she slips over the edge, time and again. My face drips with her juices as I thrust my tongue into her slit and alternate between sucking and nibbling on her swollen clit. I tease her with my fingers, inserting just the tips, then curling one inside her, then fucking her with three at a time. 

By the time I finally let her fall, she has moved from demands to pleas to incoherence.

Before she can recover, I slide up and into her. Tonight I rest my weight on my forearms, cup her head in my hands, and take her slowly. Agonizingly slowly. I can tell she doesn't want to meet my eyes, but I hold her head and gaze steadily down at her. Her arms lie at her sides, and the only movement she makes is the rise and fall of her hips as they meet mine and move away, time and again.

I let my head drop next to hers as I come, and I think about myself as I whisper into her ear, "I love you."

Due to the repair delay, the schedule has been adjusted by one day to avoid having to rush, and we have half a day to ourselves in district 4. I request and am granted permission to take Katniss to the beach for a picnic--under supervision, of course. Effie tells Haymitch to go with us, and he opens his mouth to refuse, until I tip one of the bags I've packed toward him and he sees the bottles. 

Katniss actually looks happy for once when she realizes she can go swimming.

The train tracks go right along the beach, so we are always in sight of our entourage. I spread a blanket on the sand, and through some combination of sun, fresh air, and teasing, manage to get Katniss to eat more than she's eaten in days. There is something soothing and exhilarating about the sea air, and after we finish dessert, she readily agrees to a walk.

"Stay in sight," Haymitch slurs, and curls up on the blanket with a bottle.

When Katniss slips her hand into mine as we walk away, my heart slams against my chest.

We descend the fifteen feet or so to the water, and walk barefoot in the lapping waves. We've gone back and forth along the approved stretch of sand for about twenty minutes when Katniss says quietly, "Come in with me."

I stop and turn to her, our hands still entwined. I brush a stray piece of hair back from her face. "I can't swim," I admit.

"We won't go far."

So we return to the blanket, where we are greeted by Haymitch's snores. Katniss pulls her dress over her head and despite the number of times I have now seen her naked, my vision goes white around the edges at the sight of her in a sleek blue two-piece suit. The long shorts I am wearing will do fine for wading in, so I yank off my shirt and follow her in.

When her hands find me under the water, I am already hard.

She guides me down to my knees and follows me down, never releasing my cock. I lean in and kiss her briefly, and then slide my hand into the bottom of her suit. We are completely silent as we jerk each other off under the water, and we both bite our lips when we come. She pulls her hand out of my shorts and flips onto her back, floating away, just out of reach.

As symbols go, it's a painful one.

In district 3, we are each given a gift. This is not unusual. What is unusual is the sly tone of the mayor when he hands it to me, suggesting I may want to wait to open it when I'm alone--"or, I should say, when the two of you are alone."

The people of district 3 are clearly on the edge of rebelling, and Katniss grows more pale as the day goes on. She hugs me, kisses me, and accepts teasing about our relationship. Everyone seems to accept her behavior at face value, but I know better: she is barely keeping it together. The evening seems to drag on forever, and even after we return to the train, Effie wants to go over the schedule for the next few days because we are getting closer to the Capitol. Just when I think she will never stop talking, Cinna intervenes and points out our exhaustion. With a grateful glance at him, I walk Katniss to her door. 

"Don't go, Peeta," she whispers, and I follow her in blindly.

I send her off to take a shower, and when I hear the water start, I open the box the Mayor presented me with. Despite it's cylindrical shape, it is not immediately apparent what the object is. It has a white base and a clear top, and is strangely smooth. The clear top turns up a little and is rounded off. I peer back into the box and find a booklet, and when I lift it out, it falls open at the middle. 

The drawings make its intended use quite clear.

A slide of my thumb over the bottom sets it vibrating in my hand. A twist of the top makes it both light up and alters the speed of the vibration. The only purpose I can think of for the light is so that the user can see what they're doing.

"What is that?"

I turn around at the sound of her voice to see her standing behind me, wrapped in a huge towel.

 "Come here and we'll find out together."

I fuck her for hours that night, with my mouth, my cock, and the vibrating toy. She screams the loudest when I turn the speed up and slide it into her while her clit is in my mouth, but for me, I prefer when she's riding me and I put the tip in her ass. I lose track of how many orgasms she has, and she is boneless by the time we are finished.

Afterward, when I tell her who gave it to me, she lets out a genuine laugh for the first time in weeks.

The laughter brings me hope, but I should have known better, because things are worse than ever in district 2. For the first time I consider refusing her requests, but in the end, as always, I agree. I'm almost ashamed of how hard I grow as I tie her, spread-eagled, to the bedposts. 

"Tighter," she tells me, her voice barely audible, and I pull the ties tighter. 

"Harder," she tells me, over and over again, until I am biting her nipples, sucking at her skin hard enough to leave marks, and, finally, fucking her with such force that her entire body slams forward with every stroke of my cock. By this point I am slightly crazed with lust and power, and don't hesitate a second to grant her next request. I pull out of her pussy and jam my cock into her mouth, where it takes almost no time at all for her to suck my climax from me. She gags as I fill her mouth and throat, and my semen runs out from her lips and down her neck. 

I untie her then, and as she sits up, rubbing at the marks on her wrists and ankles, I go to the bathroom for a wet cloth and a glass of water. As she drinks, I clean the sticky come from her skin. Just the sight of it glistening on her face has me half-hard again in minutes. Within a half hour her hands are tied behind her back and her ass is in the air as I fuck her hard and fast from behind, her braid wrapped around my fist. She bites out her final request, and as she comes, I slap her continually with enough force to raise welts on her ass.

After she falls asleep I spend nearly an hour in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out who I've become.

District 1 is the worst of all, and for the first time, Katniss gets drunk. I try to join her, but I seem incapable of it this night. She is laughing--a little hysterically--when I guide her into her room. She won't let go of me, and falls backward on her bed, pulling me down on top of her.

"I love your cock," she breathes before plunging her tongue into my mouth.

She is soft and pliable in this condition, and for the first time, I dare to make love to her. I worship her with my lips and hands. I bring her to a shattering orgasm with my mouth, and she sighs above me. When I bury myself inside her, I can't stop the stream of words that comes from me--a new expression of love with every stroke.

When we wake in the morning, she either doesn't remember or pretends not to. 

The realization that I expected this hurts more than just about anything else has.

I am not expecting the killing blow when it comes. After a full day of events spent waving to adoring Capitol crowds, we are ensconced in our old apartments above the Training Center. She, Haymitch and I are meeting before dinner, and that's when she suggests that tonight, during our interview with Caesar, I propose to her.

The dread in my stomach pairs nicely with the panicked fear in her eyes, and after a hurried agreement, I flee to my room. I barely make it to the toilet before I vomit, shuddering with sobs and heaving breakfast into the bowl. I have no idea how much time passes while I lay on the tile floor, visions of what being married to a trapped Katniss will be like slamming into my head. Of everything she has asked of me on this trip, this is the thing that's truly unforgivable. She will never love me now--not the way I hoped she might grow to--and I will be forced to live with that for the rest of my life.

I can tell she doesn't understand my disappearance, or the sorrow in my eyes when we meet up again for the interview. Before the party, Portia slips some pills into my hand with a knowing glance, and stands with me until I swallow them. Later I am grateful for the fuzziness they lend to everything, and am able to pass through the evening with a semblance of normalcy.

But that night, when Katniss emerges from her shower and crawls into bed with me, naked, I feign sleep. She tries to kiss me awake, but I have become a practiced actor on this tour. I almost relent and open my eyes when a tear drops onto my cheek from above, but I remember Portia's words of caution again and hold firm.

As she turns the light off, she whispers, "I'm so sorry, Peeta."

The pills have worn off now, so there is nothing left to dull this pain. I feel her nestle up next to me, and once her breathing has quieted and evened out, I allow the tears to come--for the horrors that have been, the horrors yet to come, and, most of all, for the things that happened in between that let me believe that there was any hope at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I have the world's best beta. Thanks to angylinni for editing this in the tiniest chunks ever. 
> 
> And...um...happy holidays?


End file.
